Shadows and Stone
by drakkhammer
Summary: The year the young Dúnadan turned 10 the Dwarves came down from the Mountain to trade. They were nothing like he'd been told and Kili liked them, especially the blond one who shared his name. When he turned eighteen it blossomed into something more. But he had Ranger training to complete and Fili had duties as the Heir. For ten long years they were apart and then came dragonfire...
1. Chapter 1

Their entrance to the town of Larendren had been uneventful. This was Ranger territory and was safe to travel and do business in. Once every few years Thorin brought his blacksmithing business to town along with an assortment of the best weapons as well as some well-crafted household tools and cooking pots. It was far beneath the work he used to do on fine weaponry where he had overlaid the base metal with silver, gold and mithril, but one does what one must to make a living.

Larendren, while not large, was prosperous, sitting on the eastern shore of Lake Evendim where the land was rich and the winters not as bitter as they were high in the Blue Mountains. The residents of the town were tall-folk, or Men, as they preferred to be called. But more important they were the descendants of the _Númenóreans_ and many were Dúnedain; Rangers who would purchase well-crafted weapons and even contract for custom items.

Even Dwarves had heard of Rangers and, like people everywhere, told and retold stories of the great battles they fought and knew that they were heroes. More than one dwarfling had gone to his slumber dreaming of going into battle wearing a silver star with his brother Rangers at his side.

When he had heard that there was to be a journey to Larendren Fili had begged to go. He was a master craftsman and felt that, with his uncle leading the expedition, that he should take part in it…in case someone needed one of the weapons he'd forged adjusted, you know.

Thorin had planned to invite him anyway, but it amused him to see his nephew present such well-thought-out arguments in favor of joining them. Fili was past old enough to come along and had missed the last trip because Balin swore that he could not take four months away from his lessons, or the lad would not be able to count more than the sum of his fingers.

Provisions had been packed, goodbyes said and Fili had climbed onto the wagon to take the reins of the ponies. He was responsible for the wagon with their supplies and, even though it wasn't the one with the precious forge, he was very proud to have been entrusted with the responsibility. He sat up straight; his golden hair gleaming in the sun, new clothes bright and pressed. He nodded at the dwarflings and dwarrowdams as he drove past them. Today, more than ever before, he felt like Fili, son of Vili, heir to Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.

Once out of town Fili quickly discovered why the others had been less excited. It was a long way to Larendren. It took twelve long boring days to reach the outskirts of town. By that time the last thing he wanted to do was set another camp. He wanted to go into town and get a hot meal that he hadn't helped to cook and an even hotter bath. Unfortunately, with the town and its inn beckoning, he had to stay behind while his uncle went to treat with the mayor and arrange their stay. Fili tried not to pout as he went about the now-hated setup and readied the camp for Thorin's return.

In the morning, they relocated to a suitable spot at the other edge of town. Fili helped Thorin unload the portable forge. It was heavy and had to be placed carefully. Men and not a few Wo-men were arriving, claiming to just want to have a look. Fili smiled and nodded to them all. He knew that lookers would turn into buyers as soon as they were set up. It wasn't often that goods of Dwarven quality would be available and customers were already craning their necks and trying to see into the tents.

Fili backed up and almost fell over a child, who toppled to land hard on the packed ground. Quickly, he reached out and pulled the boy upright, dismayed that a thin trickle of blood was seeping from the corner of the lad's mouth.

The young prince's Westron wasn't as good as Balin would have liked, but it sufficed.

"I am sorry I hurt you," Fili said quickly, as pulled a relatively clean kerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from the boy's face. "You should know better than to get in people's way when they are working."

"Sorry," the boy mumbled, trying not to cry. He was ten going on eleven and much too old to be sniveling in front of strangers. "I've never seen Dwarves before. I didn't mean to get in the way." He mopped at the blood and then spat a wad of red onto the ground. "I bit my tongue."

He made a show of pushing on his teeth with his tongue. "Don't think anything's loose," he reported to Fili's relief. "Stings though."

"I expect it does." Fili looked at the boy who was all arms and legs and a shock of unruly curly dark hair that fell to his shoulders and into his eyes. And those eyes… They were huge and a dark honey that shaded to gold in the sunlight. He was going to be a heartbreaker when he grew into that lanky body.

"Do you think some sweet tea and a biscuit would help the sting?" Without waiting for an answer, he strode to the mess tent with the boy following like a puppy.

As he poured the tea and untinned the biscuits Fili asked, "So what do you think of Dwarves?"

The boy shrugged. "You look different from Hobbits, but bigger than I was told."

"So are you disappointed in us?" Fili teased.

"Naw, I think you look good with the beards. I hope I grow up as strong as you are. Bet you could take on a bear."

"No, I do not think so." Fili was amused by the boy's mix of disappointment and admiration. He wasn't a freak and he was strong. Not too bad, all things considered.

The mug was taken with enthusiasm and surprising manners. So he wasn't an urchin after all. Fili set the plate of honey biscuits next to him and watched as he waited for further permission to have one and then a second one and then the rest. The prince mused that whoever he belonged to must spend half their income feeding him.

Fili got a mug of tea for himself and grabbed the next-to-last biscuit. "I'm Fili. What is your name?"

"Kili," the lad said through a mouthful of biscuit. "'s short for Kiliardil."

The Dwarf laughed, startling the boy, who drew his thick brows down in a scowl.

"I meant no offence Young Ranger," Fili said gently. "But our names match. I did not expect that a Man would have a name like mine."

Kili jammed the biscuit into his cheek so that he could speak. "And I never thought you'd have a _Dúnedain_ name. It's kinda weird."

Fili smiled. "I believe it is called a coincidence."

It amused him that the boy's name was so like his own. Standing up, he bowed and announced with such formality that Fili could barely keep from laughing, "I am Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath. When I am grown I will be _Dúnedain_ and protect the East."

Allowing himself only a slight smile, Fili nodded. "I am pleased to meet you, Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath, soon to be _Dúnedain_."

He stood and bowed. "I am Fili, son of Vili, heir to Thorin, King of Erebor."

Kili's eyes widened. "You're a…a prince?"

Fili laughed and laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "No lad, I am a simple weaponsmith and craftsman from the Blue Mountains. I am heir only to a kingdom that is no more. It fell long before your grandparents were born."

He grinned widely and winked. "But you have to admit that it sounds impressive."

The boy laughed and relaxed. "It sure does. But can I tell people that I met a real prince?"

"I cannot tell you what to say," Fili chuckled. "But if they come looking for a crown I'm afraid they will be disappointed."

Kili pulled himself up to his full height, which was six inches shorter than Fili, and proclaimed, "On this day I have met a Prince. A Dwarven Prince, Fili son of Bili."

"Vili," Fili quietly corrected.

"Vili and he will get his kingdom back some day." Kili was quite pleased with his proclamation and stood there for a moment looking up at Fili with eyes filled with hero worship.

"And with faith like that, we shall certainly reclaim our lost kingdom," Fili responded solemnly. "Perhaps with the help of a Ranger."

Kili put his hand on his chest where the star would be worn. "I promise to help. No one can stand against a Ranger of the North."

"Of that I have no doubt." Fili was amused by the boy, but also saw the beginnings of a warrior. When he was grown he would be an impressive Dúnedain.

"Well, we have had our tea and treats and now I must return to setting up, or our customers will be very disappointed." Fili gestured to the door of the tent and Kili obediently went out.

Once outside he stopped and looked at Fili, the big eyes hopeful. "I got in your way and I'm sorry, but I'm strong and I can help."

Trying not to smile, Fili nodded. "I am sure you are, but your mother and father be worried about you if you're gone too long." He really didn't want a young boy around either their weapons or the forge.

Kili shook his head, curls flying wildly. "Nope. My da is dead. He was killed fighting Orcs. He's a hero." He smiled even though he looked a little sad. "My mum is taking care of my sister and working in the garden. She told me to see what you have for sale and to behave myself."

"Oh, so you have a mission." Fili smiled and picked up the sledge to drive in a tent stake. "You could help by pulling on that rope and securing it after I get this stake driven in."

Very seriously Kili nodded and bent to his task of tying off the ropes that held the tent. He looked up at the straggling townspeople and turned to Fili. "Aren't you going to put out anything for sale? Mr. Wrightson and Mr. Hod were in the stable talking about things they needed to look at when you were set up."

Amused, Fili stopped hammering in the tent stake and asked. "And what were you doing in the stable?"

Those massive brows pulled down again and Kili snorted, sounding a bit like one of the ponies. "Shoveling shit, not that it's any business of yours. I help my mum any way I can."

Fili felt a little embarrassed by his own words. "I am sorry I made sport of you. You are a good son, to help your mother like that. What say you to a bit more work and a few coppers in your pocket for your trouble?

"If you will get out the cloths in that box and cover the tables, I will bring out our wares and you can help me finish setting up."

"If I don't have to shovel horse shit, I'm in," Kili responded with a grin, his face sunny again.

Fili vanished into the tent and returned with a heavy box that he set next to the closest table. "Put the cast iron out for me. Mind you, don't touch the weapons, they are sharp."

Kili snorted. "Of course they're sharp." He looked at the blond with his brows pulled down far enough to shade his eyes to black. "My da taught me how to handle a knife when I learned to walk. I'm ten now and can fight with a sword too, if it's not too big. I have my own bow and go hunting. I feed my family well."

Chastened by the boy's words, Fili dropped his eyes. "I apologize, Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath of the _Dúnedain_. Of course you'd know weapons. For a moment I forgot where we are."

That was twice he had underestimated the boy and knew it was pure prejudice. He'd been brought up to believe that Men were stupid and lazy. Well, perhaps some were, but Kili was Dúnedain and by all counts a sharp lad who could keep anyone on their toes, even a Dwarf. He wouldn't make that mistake again. It was too embarrassing.

Fili carried out boxes to set next to the tables. He had to admit that the lad did a good job. The tables were covered neatly, the cloths sitting square and smoothed out ready for goods to be laid upon them. He showed the boy how to set things down with the handle toward the customer, grouping the items each with their own kind. When they were finished Fili barely had a chance to admire their work before the townspeople started moving in.

He was haggling with a Man, who was obviously not a Ranger, over the price of a knife when he heard Kili behind him.

"Do you think that the Dwarves came all the way from Ered Luin to give away their goods?" The boy's words were sharp and his countenance dark. He took the ladle from the woman's hand and put it back on the table. She reached for it again and he looked as if he was going to slap her hand.

Fili quickly interceded. "What seems to be the problem?"

The woman scowled at Kili and then looked at Fili with a much softer expression. "The brat didn't think my offer was fair."

"What did you offer?" he asked mildly, turning his head so that he could wink at Kili without her seeing.

"Two coppers. My last ladle only cost me one," she replied haughtily.

Fili smiled. "And that is why you need a new one now. I am afraid that it is true that you get what you pay for. This one is three coppers and you will be able to pass it on to your granddaughter."

He turned back to his previous customer leaving the woman to frown at a grinning Kili. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that she dropped three copper coins on the table, picked up the ladle and marched off as if her arse was on fire.

By the time Thorin and Dwalin returned they had done a brisk business and most of the lookie-loos had actually purchased something. Kili took no prisoners. He knew most of them by name and repeatedly called them out until they had reluctantly shuffled forward and bought what they had been eyeing. True, none of it was high priced, but they had amassed a sizeable enough stack of coppers and one silver, considering that they weren't even open for business yet.

The two Dwarves came over, Dwalin scowling as usual, and Thorin looking askance at his nephew and the young human boy. Kili slipped behind Fili and peered out at them as the less scary one spoke to Fili.

"I thought I told you to set up camp for the night, not to open shop." Thorin was pleased that Fili had taken the initiative, but at the same time annoyed for the same reason. He was used to having his orders followed to the letter.

Fili, accustomed to Thorin's ways, just smiled a little and set the box with their earnings on the table. His uncle's eyebrow rose as he did a mental count. "So, you have earned us a nice profit for the day…and I see you have made a friend."

As the boy peered out at him, his face softened and he smiled gently. "Who might you be?"

Kili stepped out from behind Fili and squared his shoulders. "I am Kiliardil, son of Kiliardath."

"He is _Dúnedain_," Fili said, looking at the boy fondly. "His father was a Ranger who was killed in battle. He has been helping me. I promised him a few coppers for his efforts."

Thorin knew they had no need of assistance, let alone someone they'd have to pay, but the lad was dressed shabbily and it was painfully obvious that he could use all the coin he could come by.

Thorin nodded. "Aye, we can always use a good hand. A Ranger, is it? Then you will be worth twice as much. Did my nephew inform you that meals come with the job?" Wide-eyed Kili shook his head. "No? Well then, consider yourself told."

He started to turn and noted the boy's eyes on Dwalin. He turned to his cousin, who had been paying far more attention to Bombur, who was stirring something in a large pot over a roaring fire. "Say hello to the lad, you auld sod, and stop scaring him."

Dwalin started and looked from Thorin to Kili in confusion. "I am not scarin' anyone, ya old grump. I am hungry and he is not hardly a mouthful."

The boy's eyebrows shot up and he quickly stepped behind Fili again. Dwalin threw back his head and laughed. He leaned over and extended his hand. Kili looked at it and at Fili, who smiled at him and nodded encouragement. Slowly he let the huge tattooed hand engulf his and then shake it.

"I will'na eat you, laddie. I am a warrior, I am s'posed to look scary."

"You do," Kili agreed, looking up at Dwalin's roach of hair, tattoos, and the chunk that was missing from his ear.

They all laughed and Dwalin clapped him hard enough on the shoulder to nearly knock Kili to the ground. "Well, you are gonna be a Ranger and people will be a lot more scared of you than they ever will be of me. Maybe we will fight together sometime and kill us a few Orcs."

Kili grinned, his fear of Dwalin gone. "Yeah. We'll kill 'em all!"

"Indeed we will, laddie. Indeed we will."

Kili was introduced to Bombur, the large and jolly cook who had come along ostensibly to act as chef, but was really there for a peaceful vacation away from his growing family. And his brother Bofur, who stated he was there for the craic, but was really there to assist his cousin Bifur in selling the beautifully intricate toys he made and to sell his own toys and gadgets. Bifur fascinated the lad by way of having the head of an Orc axe buried in his forehead.

He caught Kili staring at it and gently pantomimed getting hit in the head. Bofur leaned around his cousin and said, "It was an Orc axe, laddie. It got stuck and we could'na take it out. He is not able to talk Common anymore, but he understands what you say. He will'na hurt you."

Kili pulled himself up tall and held out his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you Mr. Bifur. My da was killed by an Orc. When I grow up and become a Ranger I will kill them all so they can't hurt people anymore."

Bifur took the boy's hand, but instead of shaking it, pulled him in for a hug. He held him tight for a moment and then released him, turning to Bofur to say something unintelligible with both words and signs.

Bofur smiled, his silly hat and dangling mustache giving him a gentle comical air. "He says he knows you will be the bravest Ranger of them all."

This unexpected compliment left Kili unable to reply. He just stood there, face flaming, scuffing the dirt with his toe. Fili saved him by asking him if he wanted to go down to the lake to cool off and clean up.

He didn't need to be asked twice. He found a bit of energy he'd squirreled away and raced past the Dwarves as they were heading down to the water. He stripped quickly and raced out amid great splashes to throw himself headlong into the water and vanish beneath the surface.

Fili shouted and broke into a run with Bofur and Dwalin close behind. They nearly ended up in a heap as Fili slid to a stop when Kili's head appeared. The boy broke into a smooth breaststroke, propelling himself back to the shore and the startled Dwarves.

"You swim like a fish, laddie," Dwalin observed. He couldn't swim a stroke-most Dwarves couldn't-and was afraid of water that had any potential to be deep. He'd rather take on a whole Orc pack than to have to cross a river.

"My da taught me. I swim a lot. Are you going for a swim, Mr. Dwalin?" he asked cheerfully, shaking the water from his mane of hair.

"No lad, just a rinse tonight," Dwalin replied to the agreement of the rest of the company. "It is late and supper is nearly ready."

Kili was too busy watching Bombur float around like a large pink raft, to notice Fili getting in and then out of the water. The huge Dwarf seemed at home in the water, more so than the land, his corpulence making him extraordinarily buoyant for a Dwarf. After paddling around happily for a time, he eventually heaved back onto so that he could finish their supper.

After Kili dried off as best he could and dressed he came back to camp and was waved over to the table to eat. He sat amid the Dwarves and was stunned when Bombur set a huge bowl heaped with stew that had large chunks of meat swimming in rich brown gravy. Next to his bowl a half a loaf of bread appeared along with a quarter pound of butter. A tankard was placed next to the bread.

"A toast," Fili proclaimed. "To our helper who made the first sale of the trip."

They all raised their mugs in salute. Kili picked his mug up and found it was watered ale. The scent was rich and yeasty. He'd never had ale before. It tasted a little bitter, but not bad. He drank to his sale and to the Dwarves, who were nothing like he had been told. They were funny and caring and a little rowdy. Best of all, they accepted him as a fellow warrior. He dug into his stew feeling all grown up, with his silver star already shining on his chest.

When he was packed off home it was with a loaf of bread and the remainder of the stew. "Don't want it goin' off sitting around, lad," Bombur had said. "Take it home to your mum and sister as a favor to me."

His pocket was heavy with three coppers and there was the promise of five more if he came the next day. It beat shoveling horse manure for a copper a day, so he was back at the Dwarves' camp when the sun was barely lighting the sky.

Bombur was up first to get the breakfast started. He saw Kili shivering in the morning chill and motioned for him to come into the cook tent. He wrapped a blanket around the boy's shoulders and gave him a mug of hot tea and a chunk of bread to chew on until breakfast was ready.

Kili was content to sit and watch until he heard the rest of the Dwarves start to stir. He came out of the tent and was surprised to find that Fili was awake and washing up. The Dwarf was shirtless, scrubbing his face, chest and underarms with hot water he'd gotten from the large kettle Bombur always kept over a fire.

Fili hadn't noticed the boy. He'd wakened when he heard Bombur stirring and left his tent to take a deep breath of fresh air. It was sweet after a night closed in a small stuffy tent. He moved easily, shrugging out of his shirt and pulling his breeches low on his hips, ignoring the chill that made his pink nipples stand out through the curls. His long hair fell about his shoulders, almost feminine with its braids and waves. He'd gone over to the communal hot water pot and dipped out enough for his morning ablutions.

The boy came around the edge of the tent and stood transfixed. He'd never seen anyone built like Fili. His torso was long in relation to his legs and it was solid with muscle. Kili had never seen so much muscle on a man. Layers lay upon layers, from solid almost square pecs, to laterals that slid into a washboard pattern on his abdomen. And it was all covered with golden curls that glinted moistly in the light of the rising sun. The air was chill, even though summer was coming on strong and a mist of steam rose from the Dwarf's shoulders, giving him the appearance of a god or apparition not of this earth.

Kili couldn't stop staring. If ever there was perfection it was Fili.

He couldn't move his eyes until Bofur appeared behind him. He smiled as he laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Now you know why he's a Prince."

Kili nodded and then suddenly realized he was staring and rushed back into Bombur's tent blushing furiously. Bofur's gentle laugh followed him, but somehow he knew it would be their secret. The Dwarf would never mention it to anyone and only recall it many years in the future when they were all in need of comfort.

Breakfast was thick porridge sweetened with a goodly amount of raisins and honey. Amazingly there was also more meat. It was smoked and salty and chewy and he could have eaten it by the pound. The tea was herbal of some sort sweetened with honey and, like the rest of the breakfast, was absolutely delicious. If he ever decided not to be a Ranger, Kili told himself he was going to go up to the mountains and become a Dwarf.

Thorin told them that the spot they had chosen was acceptable with the town council, aka the Mayor, to whom everyone deferred. He seemed a decent enough sort, so Thorin expected no problems from that direction. Of course, the traditional "gift" of a well-crafted knife smoothed any rough edges that might have existed. And there would, of course, be discounts for the Mayor and his family, but a profit would be made and trade between their peoples would be assured for another four years.

They set up in earnest and Kili very much earned his five coppers with all the lifting and arranging, selling and occasional haggling. He was bold and didn't hesitate to step in when someone he knew appeared to be a little too aggressive in their demands. He knew that Men considered the Dwarves to be lesser beings and frankly it infuriated him. He'd had better treatment in the last two days from them than he'd ever had from his own people.

Lunch was the remainder of the porridge and sandwiches of the smoked meat between two slices of bread liberally spread with butter. And then it was back to work. The forge was going and needed to be kept hot, so Kili took over the job of making sure it was full of coal. He brought cool water to Thorin and Dwalin without being asked and kept the water keg full that was used for quenching the sword during tempering.

By evening he was exhausted, nearly falling asleep over his supper. Fili hitched up the team, gathered up a tired little Ranger and the leftovers as well as some provisions, and drove him home. He had trouble keeping the boy conscious long enough to guide him to the humble home at the edge of town. Once there, he helped him down and gave him a silver coin.

Kili blinked at it in the fading light certain his brain was playing tricks on him. "That's way too much," he protested.

Fili just smiled at him. "You worked like a Dwarf so you get paid like a Dwarf. You did the work of an adult today. Give it to your mother and be proud of yourself. Also come a bit later tomorrow. Give the sun time to rise. Okay?"

He nodded, still too amazed by the shining coin in his hand to talk.

His mother had heard the wagon and came out of the house with his little sister hanging onto her dress as she hid behind her mother.

Fili walked Kili up to her and bowed. "Fili, son of Vili at your service. Your son worked like a Man today. I am afraid we let him work too hard. Tomorrow we will take more care. You should be proud of him."

She didn't know what to make of the polite Dwarf standing before her, but she was aware that he was speaking high praise of her son and she smiled at him and did a little curtsey.

"My name is Mayree and hiding behind me is Kathanne. I do thank you very much. I am very proud of Kiliardil. He has had to be the man of the family for far too long, but he does an excellent job."

"Yes he does," Fili agreed. He looked back at the wagon. "Our cook brought too much along as usual and so we would like to share our excess with you if that would be agreeable."

Not certain what he was referring too—these Dwarves were so formal in their speech, it was a little confusing. 'Yes, I guess that would be all right," she said hesitantly.

Fili turned and dug into the back of the wagon, pulling out a large bag as well as a whole preserved ham. He carried them up to her and nodded toward the house. Hurrying ahead of him, she held the door and allowed him to place the items on the table.

"So much," she said in awe as he withdrew a good-sized round of cheese, a woven basket with a half a dozen eggs, a large tin of raisins, a slab of the smoked meat Kili liked so much, a bag of roasted hazelnuts (good for eating or baking,) two large loaves of bread and a slightly smashed fruitcake that Fili was glad to see being passed on before he had to eat any of it. And last…from a pocket in Fili's pants, a beautifully carved doll dressed in the prettiest pink dress.

He knelt in front of the child and held it out. She ducked behind her mother, thumb going instinctively to her mouth for reassurance.

"It is okay little one," he said gently. "She os from Bifur, he makes toys for pretty little girls like you. He said she is lonely since her friend went to a new home and wondered if you would give her a lot of love so she will not be lonely anymore."

Kathanne nodded, her eyes were dark and shining as she looked at the beautiful doll in the Dwarf's hand. She looked up at her mother, who smiled at her. "It's all right, you may take her."

Hesitantly she took a step forward, then snatched to doll and hugged her to her chest as hard as she could. She had never had a gift like this and was not going to be parted from it.

Fili chuckled as he stood. "I knew this was the place for her. I'll tell Bifur that she is going to be just fine here. You'll have to give her a name, you know."

The girl nodded. "Kiliardath after my da." She looked up at her mother and continued. "I asked her and she said it's okay."

There were tears in her mother's eyes. "Then I guess it's a perfect name, isn't it, Mr. Fili?"

"Yes," Fili replied. "I guess it is just about perfect."

Before he left she tried to object to him leaving so much food, but Fili would have none of it, he just kept reassuring her that it was extra. Finally he simply bowed and took his leave. She watched him from the window until he was out of sight.

She looked at her son, who was cracking a hazelnut for his sister and Kiliardath to eat. "I wonder if all Dwarves are like that."

Kili shook his head and smiled. "They are all very nice, but I think that one is special."

As the summer wore on Kili never worked as hard as he had that second day, but he did his share and more, always going home with at least five coppers in his pocket, the leftovers and soon, items that he had learned to craft himself, or their profits.

He was so eager to learn anything he could that Fili took him under his wing with Thorin's approval and taught him basic ironwork. He was an eager student, careful with the hot metal and had a quick mind when it came to working out a pattern. By the end of summer he'd replaced the rack for hanging pots in his mother's hearth and had given her all the cooking tools she could use. When his craft was fine enough, he proudly laid his own ironwork on the table to sell alongside the Dwarves'.

Even Thorin had to admit that the boy had talent and skill. "If you ever decide you do not want to be a Ranger, come and see me and we will find a place for you at our forge. You could be a weaponsmith. Fili could train you if he can ever figure out which end of a hammer to hold."

Fili laughed and threw the biscuit he was eating at his uncle. Thorin juggled it expertly for a moment, took a bite, and tossed it back.

"Seriously though, Thom at the smithy has noticed your work and would hire you on after we leave."

Kili looked up, saddened by the realization that his friends would have to return home soon. "I could do that, don't mind working hard."

Fili ruffled his hair. "That is very obvious. You have spoiled us for other helpers."

Kili was a bit spoiled himself. He had quickly gotten used to the camaraderie and humor, but one thing that surprised him was the Dwarve's love for music. He never would have thought for a minute these rough ironworkers would be interested in music, let alone making it. He was delighted to find that Thorin had an amazing deep voice and Bofur could sing a rowdy pub song with the best of them.

The first time they sat back after dinner, clean from the swim, full and content, and pulled instruments out of mysterious places, it amazed the boy. He sat there and listened to tunes the like of which no Man had ever heard. Thorin had a small harp that glowed gold in the setting sun, Dwalin produced a small hand-held drum, Bofur had a little shiny whistle, Bombur had his beloved spoons but Fili…Fili produced a fiddle. It was the rich gold of honey and engraved with mysterious geometric symbols. It was beautiful and Kili couldn't take his eyes off of it.

Kili had never heard music like this. I was as powerful as the mountains; the drum rolled like thunder, the lyrics to the songs Thorin sang were deep and ringing and made to fill halls of stone. But Fili's soaring fiddle with its silver notes lifted them and their tired spirits to the clouds. He played with such joy that you couldn't help but laugh as you watched him, head thrown back, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes danced with the same blue fire that flew from his bow.

The music was wild and free and made him want to stand up and dance or run off and do heroic things. It was so different than the music of Man. He heard it night after night and went to bed with the soprano song of the violin singing in his veins.

The concerts were almost nightly and provided a welcome release from the work and stress of the day. Kili had never cared much about music before, but now he was beginning to feel that he'd been missing something. He wished the Dwarves would be there long enough to let him beg lessons from Fili. Since that was impossible he contented himself with listening as hard as he could so he would remember every note, storing them always in his heart and deep in his soul.

The Dwarves' adoption of the boy had not gone unnoticed by the townsfolk. Chagrined that these strange beings from the mountains had more care for a widow and children than they did, Men took to stopping by and making repairs here and there on the old cabin. It wasn't that they were cold, but they had their own lives and it was easy to forget about someone who does not complain, even in a settlement of _Dúnedain. _

Kili had shown up one morning wide-eyed and had regaled them at breakfast with the tale that the roof had been repaired while he had been at work and how surprised and pleased his mother was. They had no family in the town, having moved there after an Orc raid had killed most of their village, so they had been unusually isolated. But as Thorin had pointed out to the Mayor on one of his visits, they were all cousins by blood, even if it ran thinner with some. The Mayor, always eager to appear important had passed along a "suggestion" that Kiliardath's widow could be better served and the townsmen, always eager to curry favor, rose to the occasion admirably. And Thorin was insufferably pleased with himself.

Fili was not in a hurry for summer to end either. Even though he was either bargaining with customers or working the forge (of the two he found the customers more exhausting) he found time for a little recreation. It usually involved stealing Kili away from his duties, but no one complained as few customers came when the sun was high and hot anyway. They were both young and needed time off now and again.

The nightly swims had cooled them all and Fili loved the water, but was afraid of it because he couldn't swim. Dwarves were so heavily built with thick bones and thicker muscle that they tended to sink like the stone they were said to be made from. Kili, however, could swim like a fish and dedicated himself to teaching his friend how to at least survive in the water.

When he realized that Kili would have to be close to him and even touch him, Fili had taken a pair of his under-breeches and cut them off. He didn't feel right having dangly bits in a child's face. The wet cloth was uncomfortable until he got used to it but he did wish that the lad wouldn't giggle so when air got under the brown fabric and made it bubble up around him. Kili called him a "Dwarven stew" which irritated him at first and then became an in-joke.

For one so young, Kili had amazing patience with the hesitant Dwarf. Fili refused to admit that the idea of going into water deeper than his waist terrified him and put on a bold front when pushed to go out chest deep. The boy insisted they stay where Fili could easily put his feet down if he became uncomfortable and then they started. Sort of...

The first attempt ended with Fili panicking and living up to the tales about Dwarves. He sank like a rock arse first, went straight to the bottom and forgot for a moment that he could just stand up. When he remembered, he rose like some mythical sea creature, breaking the surface spraying water and roaring, to the vast amusement of the lad.

Embarrassed, Fili did his best to entrust himself to Kili's tutelage and, after only a few more near-drownings, was able to dog paddle enough to keep his head above water. A few more lessons and a little less panic and he was able to actually swim a good distance. The muscles that threatened to sink him also propelled him through the water at a decent speed. He never became comfortable with swimming underwater like Kili, but he was able to dive down and retrieve his hair clip when it loosened and slipped off.

It was a good summer, full of laughter, work and camaraderie. Truth be told, they all felt a little sad when the first frost nipped colors into the leaves. They all turned a nice profit and for the Dwarves, it had been an excellent venture. They would return in four years to do it again.

_Four long years._

"I'll be fourteen by the time you get back," Kili said dejectedly. He was desperately trying not to show how much he was going to miss the Dwarves…how much he was going to miss Fili.

Fili tried not to think of the time. It was like leaving a kid brother behind and it bit deeply into his heart.

"You'll be taller than me by then," he replied, trying to find a silver lining. "Smithing will fill your muscles out and you'll be ready for your Ranger training."

"I leave for training in Rivendell when I'm eighteen, but the Rangers here will teach me all they know before that." Kili was trying not to cry. He was a man and a Ranger and they never cried.

When the wagons were packed and the campground nothing but a bare trampled area, Fili stood next to Kili who was holding one last toy for Kathanne that Bifur had pressed into his hand. His eyes were brimming tears that he refused to let fall. Fili's eyes were a little misty as well.

Fili gathered the boy into his arms for one last hug.

Kili had to force himself to let go and step back so that they could leave. He stood there alone watching the wagons slowly head back to the Blue Mountains.

He gave one last wave and whispered:

"I'm going to marry you one day, Fili. I promise I will."


	2. Chapter 2

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M/M

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The Hobbit (Jackson movies)

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Fíli/Kíli

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FíliKíliThorinDwalinDísBofurBomburBifurRadagastGandalf

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Fili and Kili are not brothersRanger KiliDwarf FiliRomanceSexytimesPTSD Warnings for later chaptersPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSDHurt/Comfort

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English

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2015-03-21

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2015-05-03

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4/?

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Shadows and Stone

DrakkHammer

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Chapter 2

Summary:

It's been eight years, but Fili has finally returned and Kili is not as he remembered him. The child has grown into a man, tall and strong and beautiful. It is summer and there is work, but there is also time for fun. Feelings begin to emerge for both Dwarf and Man neither of whom is quite able to understand yet what is happening.

Chapter Text

The four years passed much faster for Kili than they did for Fili. The prince had much to keep him busy; from weapon training, to lessons in everything from languages to diplomacy, and Thorin had started dragging him into sessions on governing his subjects. The trouble was that everything except sparring bored him to tears and the days dragged like molasses. He longed for the freedom of the long summer without lessons and the stultifying boring details of government.

Fili hated everything to do with government. He hated being The Heir and just wanted to be like everyone else. He envied the commoners. He really hated trying to just go shopping and have people notice him. Why did he have to be cursed with golden hair and blue eyes, an uncommon combination for his people? He stood out like a very sore thumb when all the wanted to do was blend in. He'd leave it to what few friends he had to enjoy the attention of the Dwarrowmaids who flocked around vying for his attention. He'd eventually have to take one as his bride to produce the next Heir, but he knew instinctively that he would not find his One among them.

The four years passed rapidly for a young Dúnedain who was growing like the proverbial weed. He wasn't particularly tall for his age and would have been skinny if it wasn't for the muscles that working in the forge layered on his slender frame. He was starting weapons training in earnest. He practiced every day with sword and knife. He was already an expert with a bow, rarely missing a shot, his strength driving the arrow deep enough for kill shots even at distance. He had so much to do that it seemed that here were never enough hours in the day to get it all done.

He hadn't forgotten the Prince. He hadn't forgotten his laugh, or the summer skies reflected in his eyes, his dimples or the way his muscles lay over his strong bones, or the reddish gold curls that spread over the muscles. None of the lads in the village measured up even though they were taller and their features softer and more chiseled. He was uninterested in the maids.

It was a snake crossing his pony's path that undid Fili. It took umbrage at the shaking of the ground beneath the oncoming hooves and chose to curl up and hiss rather than be sensible and flee.

The Prince never saw the snake, nor did he see the tree that broke the arc of his flight. When he woke, he was alone in the growing dark and could barely breathe. He was dizzy, his head pounding and every breath feeling as if a hot knife was being twisted beneath his ribs. He could only think that he had to get home, they were leaving tomorrow for Larendren and he had much to do.

He thought about Kili and the intricate silver clasp he'd made to capture the boy's wild dark hair away from his face. He was still thinking about the clasp when he blacked out.

It hadn't taken Thorin, Dis and Dwalin very long to find him once his pony had come back riderless. Dis and Thorin had stayed with him while Dwalin went back to get a wagon. Fili, son of Vili, might be a Prince, but not even Princes could ride for days with broken ribs.

"You will give it to him?" Fili had entreated Thorin for at least the tenth time.

With great forbearance, his uncle agreed one more time. "Of course I will. I will see to it that I find him straightaway and deliver your gift and your letter. I will tell him how sorry you are to have to miss this trip and what a pain in the arse you have been about it."

"Thorin!" Dis scolded. "What a thing to say to Fili when you know he was counting on going with you."

Only half joking, she looked up at her big brother, blue eyes shining. "If there is any pain in the arse here it is you. So go on and get on the road, you auld grouch."

She looked so much like Frerin when she sassed him that it never failed to wrench his heart. He reached down and brushed her dark braid back over her shoulder so that he could kiss her cheek.

"Take good care of that one," he said, looking at Fili whose brows were still pulled down into a frown. "He is going to whine for awhile, but he will survive it and there is always the next trip."

"In four more years," Fili muttered, not looking at his uncle. He had never been one to take disappointment easily. He didn't want to be in bed with his chest bound so tightly that he could only sip air. He wanted to be on that wagon heading to see the countryside and the young Man who he thought of as his little brother. The boy who would have grown tall and strong and be well into his training by now.

"Four more years," Kili had said sadly to Thorin when he was given the letter and the hair clasp.

He'd put it in himself, something he felt Fili should be doing. He closed his eyes and pretended that his fingers belonged to the golden prince. He breath came unevenly and new feelings trailed tentative fingers up from his legs to his loins. He wasn't sure what was happening, but it felt right. It felt like love.

The next four years passed slowly for them both. For the young Dúnedain the days were an endless swirl of work, practice, and more practice. The days ran together as did the seasons, only winter leaving its mark and taking a toll with chill and the need to use his honed skills to hunt to feed his family. Neither of them ever seemed to be finished with work and practice and longed for the summer days when they had time for swimming and music and laughter.

Kili grew taller still. Not towering like some of his teachers and still slender, but with a grace the bigger men lacked. He could duck a blow, roll out of the way, or slip in to strike quickly and then dance back out of reach. He became formidable with the long sword, his muscles hardened to steel by hours pounding out iron on the anvil.

What didn't change was his shock of unruly dark curls, his brilliant grin and soaring laugh, and the place in his heart where he kept his memories of Fili.

For Fili the years dragged. He rarely thought about his swimming lessons in the cool blue waters of the lake. It was hard for him to remember Kili's face and pointless now that he would no longer look like a scruffy ten-year-old. Sometimes in the dark when he couldn't sleep he'd try to envision the boy nearly grown, but his imagination failed him and Kili ended up looking like every other Man Fili had ever met.

He was also heartily sick of the duties and responsibilities of being The Heir. He just was not a politician. His uncle was good at seeing both sides of an argument and had the patience to sit and listen to the council as they droned on for hours, each Dwarf seeking to sound more important than the one preceding him. Fili, ever the warrior, wanted to just stand up and tell them to do what they needed to do and shut up!

As the winter snows melted, plans were made for another trip to Larendren. Fili had been busy crafting a knife as an eighteenth birthday gift for Kili. Hopefully he would not have left yet for Rivendell because Fili wanted to give it to him in person.

It was a Ranger's blade, meant to take the worst punishment someone living off the land and doing battle could give it. The blade's edge was overlaid with mithril, so that it would hold an edge without being sharpened. The tiny piece that he'd worked and stretched thin and beaten into submission so that it would lay even and deadly along the edge, had cost him dearly, but it was for someone special and was worth it. It was not every day that a Dwarf would craft a knife for one of the Dúnedain.

Fili had hoped to meet a Ranger the last time he'd been on the trip, but none had been in town. Thorin said one had stopped by and had purchased a sword Dwalin had made. He'd been pained to have missed that. But he would make up for it by seeing Kili and knowing that he would be able to give him a gift that was beautiful and useful. Perhaps other Rangers would see it and come to him for their blade. The youth in him very much liked the idea of him being weaponsmith to the Dúnedain.

When the wagons of the Dwarves came creaking into town word spread fast. They hadn't even unpacked their tents before people had started to gather. They talked and they stared, but they didn't help…except for one tall young man.

"Need a hand with that?"

The tent rope was lifted from Fili's hand and he whirled to stare into the chest of the Man who had taken it from him. Tipping his head back, he looked upward into a grin that he remembered very well.

"Kili!"

"You got shorter, Fili."

"Balls! You got taller. A lot taller." The prince's laughter turned into a squeak as he was lifted from his feet.

"Put me down, you arse!"

Kili grunted. "Gladly, you're a lot heavier than you look."

They burst out laughing, joined by the rest the company who had come over to greet Kili.

Dwalin stood there, solid as the rock he from which he was made. "So are ya gonna lift me up too, laddie?" The twinkle in his eye belied the challenge of his words.

Kili laughed harder and he shook his head. "I think I'd hurt myself if I tried. When I look at you, I believe the legends about you being made from stone."

Dwalin threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Aye laddie and don't you forget it."

Bofur poked the big Dwarf, earning himself a cheerfully threatening glare. "You might hurt yourself, but not as much as Dwalin would hurt you for trying."

Kili launched himself at his old friend and snatched his hat, only to put it on and grin foolishly as the flaps bounced with his laughter. The hat was much too large and almost immediately fell down to his nose, obscuring his eyes. This prompted a scream of laughter from Bofur that was heard clear into town.

"You should keep it," Thorin observed cheerfully. "It looks better on you."

"I think not," Kili laughed as he gently set it back on the Dwarf's head. "It appears to be made for someone with a swelled head and you will find that I am very humble."

That brought a bray of laughter from Bifur, who believed sometimes that his cousin thought a bit much of himself, especially when it came to the Dwarrowmaids. Bofur swatted him but he took no notice. He looked earnestly at the boy and began to speak quickly. His run of Khuzdul and Iglishmêk needed no translation. He was glad to see the young Man again and asked after his sister.

"Kathanne has grown tall and beautiful," Kili told the toymaker. "She still has the doll and she still cherishes it and your kindness."

Bifur blushed a little and suddenly found a button on his shirt that needed his attention. Bofur chuckled gently and gave the old Dwarf a quick hug.

"So do you gentlebeings need some assistance?" Kili bent and picked the rope up, handing it to Fili.

"Spoken like a Ranger," Fili replied. "Of course we need help, as long as you are the one providing it." He jerked his thumb toward the tent. "You can bring out the crates."

"Yeah, I guess someone will have to do the heavy lifting around you little guys."

Dwalin laughed and slapped Bombur on the shoulder. "I hope you brought enough food. If we make that one work, it'll take an entire deer to fill him up." Bombur just chuckled. He always brought enough food to feed an army—of Dwarves or Men.

Kili picked up two of the crates and went past Fili into the tent to set them down.

"Show off," the prince muttered, as he secured the tent rope. He could see that he was going to get his arse worked off, as his pride demanded that he one-up the young Ranger.

He looked at Kili out of the corner of his eye. He'd grown so tall, his weight not being able to keep up with his growth spurt, making him look as lanky as a hound pup—all legs and arms. His shock of curls was as wild as ever. They'd been trimmed around his face where they twined fetchingly into ringlets with the longer portion caught back in the silver clip that he'd sent when with Thorin. He was pleased to see that Kili was wearing it. For some reason that made him smile inside.

When the setup was complete, they were all hot and sweating. Kili had taken a seat in the shade of the tent and was finishing a mug of cool water that he was tempted to dump over his head. He looked up as Fili came out of the tent holding something wrapped in deerskin. The Dwarf stopped in front of him and held it out.

"I, uh…made this for you. I thought that a Ranger could use a good knife." He was far shyer about presenting it than he had thought that he would be. For some reason he'd expected that Kili would still look like the lanky ten-year-old he remembered. Seeing this tall handsome Man had been more of a surprise than he was comfortable dealing with. He hadn't expected to find someone whom he was more than a little attracted to.

For his part, Kili was stunned. He took the proffered gift and slowly unwrapped it, eyes going wide and throat constricting as he revealed a beautifully crafted knife in a tooled sheath. The handle was polished bone dyed to a soft gold, bringing out the texture. It was wrapped in finest steel that had been worked multiple times to drive out the impurities, making it shine almost like silver. The smithing was exquisite with a pattern that allowed Dwarven geometry to blend with the swirls of knotwork.

Picking it up carefully, Kili unsheathed it slowly, marveling at the craftsmanship. The blade was mosaic, its pattern nearly like watermarks, but beaten into the steel so that the knife was as much a work of art as it was a weapon. The edge glinted brighter than silver in the light. It was so beautiful that it nearly broke Kili's heart. It was the weapon of a prince…not a would-be Ranger.

He extended his hands, offering it back to Fili, who took a step back in confusion. "Don't you like it?"

Kili's eyes were dark and shone too brightly with unshed tears. "I can't take this. It's too fine for me. It's a knife for royalty. It has to be yours."

Fili chuckled and gently pushed the knife back toward the lad. "It is for royalty. It is for a Ranger of the Line of Elendil. It is I who should bend a knee to you. My ancestors stayed in their mountain while yours have ever kept the land safe. We are all in your debt."

He smiled, his blue eyes soft and sparkling. "It is a Ranger's knife—not a Dwarf's. It is sized for you. I am pleased that I was not wrong in gauging it. The mithril edge will never dull. It will protect you, cut your meat and shave you if you choose not to keep your beard."

Kili was surprised by that last statement and grinned. "No, I quite like my beard." Almost as much as I like yours.

"I thank you for it." He dropped his eyes for a moment. "I have no way to repay you."

Fili leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It is a gift. Gifts do not demand repayment, they require only the receiver's thanks."

Kili stood and squared his shoulders. "That you have, Prince Fili. If ever I can come to your aid I pledge to do so."

He reached out his hand and Fili took it, clasping each other's wrists tightly in promise. Kili towered Fili, but neither of them felt as if it made the slightest difference. They were friends, Man and Dwarf, and it was not their differences that defined them—it was their similarities.

Now that the camp was set up and a stew simmering over the fire, the entire company headed down to the lake to clean up. Bofur observed loudly as he looked at Dwalin, that by bathing together they would probably kill all the fish in the lake. The big Dwarf said nothing in reply, but a few minutes later one not-as-funny-as-he-thought-he-was Dwarf found himself thoroughly dunked. As he stood back up, mustache drooping down to his chest Bofur laughed harder than anyone, partly because he had a good sense of humor and partly because he knew Bombur would slip him an extra dessert for daring to tease Dwalin.

When Fili was waist deep, he turned to Kili, and was surprised to find he was still standing on the shore. "Don't dawdle," he called impatiently.

Shaken out of his trance, Kili quickly stripped and waded into the lake, painfully aware that Fili was looking at him. He couldn't begin to compare to the Dwarf and felt like covering himself, or ducking beneath the water. He was too long and too skinny. He had good enough chest hair, but then it thinned over his abdomen to nothing but a trail that trickled down before flaring out again at his pubes. He felt wanting in the other department as well. He resisted the urge to cover his manhood to shield it from judgmental eyes. What must Fili think of him? His face was flaming by the time he reached the Dwarf and he dove long and deep so that he could stop thinking about how poorly he compared to the Prince.

Fili was surprised when Kili arched up and disappeared. He'd been enjoying the sight of the young Man. His body was so different from the Dwarves, the lines longer and cleaner with less body hair to obscure them. The lad surfaced way out in the lake, too far for Fili to swim. He didn't look as if he was coming back any time soon, so Fili did a little swimming himself, ducking beneath the water to rinse his hair.

One by one the other Dwarves joined them, stripping quickly and then either wading or galloping into the water, and Bombur galloping was awe inspiring.

For his part Kili didn't know where to look…so much…Dwarf…

They were not shy in their nudity and didn't hesitate to jump on one another in rough horseplay, with the exception of Thorin, of course. Even though they were exhausted they washed themselves and their clothes as if it were a celebration rather than a bath. It was a warm day, winter had been hard, they were down in the low country where the weather was softer, and there was a profit to be made, so they engaged in horseplay that would fell an ox.

Kili celebrated too, but for a different reason. He had barely been able to force his eyes away from Fili as he had stripped and walked into the water. His memory of him was eight years old, nearly half a lifetime away and he'd been sure he'd remembered wrong.

He hadn't.

Fili was as beautiful as he had been so many years ago standing in the chill of the early morning, with the sun picking highlights in the gold of his hair. What had changed were the eyes beholding the Prince. No longer did Kili have the vision of a child. He looked upon the Dwarf with the eyes of someone who was a man in body, if not in age. He looked upon Fili as someone who was seeing everything he ever wanted, or ever would want.

The wrench was that it was everything that he could never have.

Rangers rarely married, his father being an exception. They were never home and were always at risk as they lived for battle. They never sought out combat, but their mission was to keep the land free from Orcs and Goblins and so combat found them. It was not a life conducive to establishing a relationship with anyone.

Even at eighteen, Kili instinctively knew this. He never considered that a Dwarven prince might be able to have a relationship with a Man even if he wanted one. Mixing races was frowned upon in a land where there had always been too much danger and too few resources, a combination that formed everyone into a harsh "Us versus Them" mindset.

The young Ranger had none of these prejudices. His first training was among Men, his finishing training would be among Elves and he considered the company he was in to be brothers. It was an acceptance that would serve him well in the years to come, even if it wasn't something that he considered in the present. Right now the only thing he could think about concerning race relations was how to have them with a certain Dwarf who was happily paddling and then swimming out and back in the lake just because he could.

He dove deep and long, coming up underneath Fili and upending him, sending the young prince splashing as he fought to keep his heavy arse from dragging him down.

Fili felt strong hands on his waist as he was stabilized in the water. Once he stopped sputtering and cursing at a grinning Kili, he realized that he could still feel the warmth of those hands long after he'd been released. Ignoring the tingle, he reached out and shoved Kili's head under and then headed for shore, swimming strongly with the young Ranger in pursuit. By the time he'd made it to the shallows and could stand Kili had caught up with him and they amused the Dwarves by having an epic splash fight.

Everyone but Thorin was laughing at the two friends. He'd seen something he remembered from his own youth. Something that could only hurt the two of them if they gave into it.

Supper was as rowdy as the bathing with comments thrown freely about one another's assets and shortcomings. Fortunately most of what was said was in Khuzdul or Kili would have burned up with the blushing. Bofur spotted him sitting with his head down concentrating too hard on his stew and chucked a scone at him. It bounced off his forehead and landed in his lap.

He looked up puzzled and then saw Bofur leaning back and smiling innocently. Without hesitating, Kili threw it back. It arched perfectly to land on the spoon the Dwarf was lifting to his mouth, catapulting its contents onto Bofur's nose.

He jerked in surprise and then roared with laughter, tipping too far back, to fall off the bench, vanishing from view with only his huge boots visible.

"Man 1 – Dwarf 0," Dwalin crowed, wiping his face from the ale he'd spilled when he'd burst out laughing.

"I demand a rematch!" was heard from the ground on the other side of the table.

After supper the Dwarf and the Man sat side by side watching the sun set. Fili brought out his bag of pipeweed and his pipe. Kili watched as he packed the bowl and lit it, then blew a neat series of smoke rings into the air.

He offered his pipe to Kili, who took it gingerly. He held it and marveled at the intricate carving on the bowl and stem. It looked more like a sculpture than a pipe. Fili saw him inspecting it, but not smoking and said, "It's okay, you can have some if you want."

"I never smoked," Kili admitted. "It costs money for a pipe, so I never bothered."

Fili nodded. "You do not have to try it. Not everyone likes it." He grinned. "I mostly like it because it is fun to see if I can make rings with the smoke."

Kili cocked his head. "Really?"

"Even a prince has to have some fun," Fili teased.

"Can you teach me?" Kili was suddenly eager to do something that Fili liked.

"I never tried to teach anyone, mostly I just get laughed at for doing it." He had to admit that he liked the idea of teaching Kili something that was fun.

The young Ranger put the pipe in his mouth and sucked hard. He ended up in a coughing fit that made him drop the pipe. He looked up with tears in his eyes from choking, mortified, and started to apologize.

Fili quickly reassured him. "Just pull the smoke into your mouth, not all the way into your lungs. It takes practice. I coughed a lot the first time too, which probably means we should not be doing this. But then, we do a lot of things that we should not do."

Kili nodded and wiped his eyes. "I guess I need to use less suck."

The prince threw back his head and laughed. "That is an excellent way to describe it: less suck and more blow. I think there is a dirty joke in there somewhere."

They both sat laughing as Kili gradually got the hang of it. The pipeweed had a mild flavor and a scent like autumn. By the time it was twilight he could get a bit of a ring going but it always broke and went up his nose and into his eyes making them water. He was not pleased with his progress, but the prince didn't agree.

"It is an excellent start," Fili assured him, standing up and stretching. He patted Kili on the shoulder. "You will get better at it and at some point when you run out of pipeweed you will curse me for having introduced you to it."

They headed back to camp and were met by Bombur, who brought the leftovers to Kili along with a bag that held raisin scones.

The young Ranger smiled at Bombur. "You're too kind."

Bombur shook his head and laid his hand on Kili's shoulder. "You are like family and what good is being a cook if you cannot make treats for your family?"

Fili walked with Kili to the road. "Are you coming tomorrow?" He tried not to look too hopeful.

Kili nodded. "Yes. It will have to be after I'm done with training and work. I'm afraid I won't be much help to you this year."

Fili tried to keep his expression neutral. He looked up at Kili and said, "You do not have to earn your keep with us. We are always glad to see you. Besides, not just anyone can so effectively shut Bofur up the way you did. That took skill."

The brunet laughed. "That took luck, but I'm glad I could amuse."

He started to walk away and then stopped. "If you get up early you could come and watch me train. I'll bet you could teach me some things."

Fili was surprised. "You would want to train with me?"

"Sure. I'd love to see how you fight. You never know, I might face a Dwarf at some point, although I hope I don't. But maybe you could teach me something that would surprise an adversary."

Now that Kili had thought of it, he was so eager to have Fili come and watch that he was nearly bouncing with enthusiasm. He was like a big puppy with a new toy. For a moment he looked ten years old again and Fili smiled, enjoying the lad's exuberance.

"Of course I will come. With your help we got almost everything done today. I can take an hour off in the morning." He had to admit that the idea of sparring with Kili was very appealing.

The lad held out his hand and Fili took it, noting that, although the boy had a longer reach, the Dwarf's hand was still larger and stronger. "See you tomorrow behind the smithy."

The day dawned brightly, with the rising sun painting the sky in golden pastels. It was still chilly, but sparring in the heat was never a good idea. Fili hauled himself out of bed and dressed, letting the bite of the morning breeze bring him to full wakefulness. He'd told Thorin where he was going the night before and his uncle had agreed that it would be good for the boy to learn as much as he could. The Prince saddled Misty, the grey pony, and headed for the smithy.

Kili was already there talking with a big Man who looked to be the Ranger version of Dwalin. He was tall and broad with long hair caught back in a horsetail, his bare arms decorated equally with tattoos and scars. He spotted Fili and his brows drew down in a frown. He said something too quickly and softly for the Prince to hear, but it was obvious by the lad's reaction that it wasn't a compliment.

Ignoring his tutor Kili's face split into a huge grin and he ran over to greet Fili.

I'm glad you could make it. I was telling Baen about you."

Nodding toward the Ranger, Fili replied, "I saw that and he does not look impressed."

"Aw, that's just because he doesn't know anything about Dwarves. Anyway, you're here to watch me." Kili's enthusiasm was not to be brooked and he could barely stand to wait while the Dwarf tied the pony in the shade.

Fili followed him over to Baen and waited as he was introduced. The Ranger nodded curtly to him and motioned for him to move out of the way. On another day Fili would have felt insulted. Today he was just amused. Sure, he'd been ignored and dismissed, but it was by a Ranger and one who had obviously seen a lot of action. He didn't doubt that Dwalin would act the same if presented with a Man at the sparring area. He seated himself comfortably on the grass and waited for the match to begin.

He didn't have long to wait. They picked up the long wooden training swords and squared off. The old Ranger tried to sweep Kili's feet from beneath him with a sideways kick. The brunet jumped the attack and landed with his sword out ready for action. It came quickly with a series of blows and parries. First one and then the other was driven back. Fili was impressed. Kili might be young but he had a good eye, a calculating mind and was fast. He seemed to know when and where the Ranger's sword would strike and be there to block it.

Only the Ranger's superior skill and knowledge turned the fight. Kili was hit on the left side, first his ribs and then his shoulder as he didn't protect himself fast enough from the first blow. He stood trying to catch his breath, one hand rubbing his stinging ribs. If the Ranger had less skill it would have been a serious wound rather than a slap that stung. His bicep has a slow trickle of blood trailing from it, but it was only a nick and not even worth acknowledging.

Baen was upbraiding Kili loudly. "You leave yourself open too often. You are fast, but if you have your ribs hacked apart nothing else will matter. Don't plant your feet like you are a bloody tree! MOVE!

With that he swung a mighty blow that, even with the wooden sword, would have hurt or cracked a rib. Kili whirled out of the way, the tip just missing him as it sailed past. With his opponent now unbalanced, he completed the turn by catching him on the chest hard enough to knock the Ranger back a step.

Rubbing his chest, Baen grinned at Kili. "That's more like it."

As the sparring went on the sun rose, as did the heat. During a break, Kili stripped off his shirt and reached up to adjust the silver clip that held his hair back. Fili tried to concentrate on the hair clip. He was pleased the lad was wearing it. It was great that it held his hair back so that it wouldn't…cascade down to his shoulders in a waterfall of black shading to russet when the sun hit it just right…and slide silkily over the rolling muscles just under tanned olive skin…

Oh, Mahal…

Fili missed seeing the next two parries and looked up to see Kili looking at him expectantly.

He blinked.

Kili nodded, one eyebrow raised in a question.

He blinked again.

"Well," the lad prompted. "What did you think?"

Of what? The breadth of your shoulders…or maybe the carved muscle of your chest with the dusky pink nipples circled by dark crisp hair that is sparkling with your sweat and trails down over rippled abs to cup your navel and then descend into the waistband of your breeches.

Mahal help me…

"You weren't watching." Kili looked irritated at Fili's inattention.

How to tell him that he had the Dwarf's full attention…but that it wasn't on what it should have been. And must he stand there looking like some mythical being sent to torment poor mortals? Did he have to move like a dream come to life, all grace and beauty; dancing through the match with a grace no Dwarf could hope to achieve?

"I was…uh…distracted," he bluffed. He coughed and tried to recover his wits. He quickly added, "Baen is right, you tend to plant your feet and that leaves you open to hits from at least three directions. In a fight you have to keep moving. You have to make them work to hit you. The more moves they have to make, the more opportunities you have to hit them.

"Thorin said he once had a teacher from the Far East who told him to 'move like water.' He said it didn't make sense until later when he found himself doing it in battle. It means to let yourself move easily in any direction that you can to stay away from the opponent."

Kili fixed him with a rueful half-smile. "So I should move like water?"

The Ranger smacked him on the shoulder with enough force to fell a lesser man. "As long as the water isn't frozen I don't care what you move like as long as you MOVE!

Kili made a face and danced backward, sword twirling to slice down and to the side, seeking opportunity. He was blocked, but it was at the last moment. Fili nodded. Better, but he'd have to improve more to stay alive. After the sun was fully up he took his leave and returned to camp to find customers already milling around eager to get the first pick of new merchandise.

It was a busy day for both of them, each of them having to please a discerning master so that they didn't have time to dwell on the morning lesson. Fili had a little more trouble than Kili, but then he had a better reason to dwell.

The lad showed up at camp in time for a swim. It was still hot, the sun a good way up and Fili intercepted him.

"About your training this morning," he started to say.

Kili interrupted him. "It's okay that you aren't interested. I don't know why I thought a Dwarf would want to watch a couple of Men training." He looked tired and disappointed, but was still trying to smile.

Fili shook his head. "But I was interested. I just got to thinking about what you could do to improve and wasn't paying as much attention as I should have to where you currently are."

He pointed to a shaded area under the trees. "Would you like to train with me a little? It will be different and may help your footwork."

"Yeah," Kili's face split in an eager grin. "I'd really like that. I don't have my practice sword though."

"That's alright, I have several that have no edge yet. You've been doing too much whacking because you are using a wooden sword. Hopefully using real steel will teach you a little more control. Sometimes you don't want to hit hard and sometimes you should thrust. Chopping like it's an axe and your enemy is a tree isn't the only way to fight."

"I don't think you should let Baen hear you say that," Kili said with a grin as he followed Fili to the forge.

He was shown several unfinished swords. He picked each one up, trying and then setting them down carefully to test the next. He settled on one that was light and well balanced. Fili chose one himself and also picked up two short swords that Dwalin had been crafting. Kili looked askance, but the Dwarf ignored him and went back to the shade of the trees.

He picked up the sword and did several swings and whirls with it before watching Kili do that same. Once they had adjusted to the feel of their swords, they stepped in toward each other. The Dwarf was surprisingly light on his feet. He stepped in, took a swing, was blocked, and stepped back, to whirl and jab. It was unexpected but it was easily blocked.

Fili picked up the pace, driving Kili backward and, in turn, being driving back. Fili fought differently than Baen; he was more feral than the Ranger, and his movements were quicker and sharper. A number of times Kili just missed being on the receiving end of the point of one of Fili's sword, either his own skill or Fili's sparing him a jab.

Fili dropped the long sword and picked up the two short swords. He twirled them expertly and grinned. "These are what I use. I'll wager you haven't trained against two swords."

Kili shook his head. He had never faced anything like it and he was driven back by the fury of Fili's attack. The young Ranger gained a quick and life-long respect for what he had previously considered a worthless weapon. Fili was lightning fast with his short swords. The powerful muscles in his shoulders and arms made thrusts and cuts hard and his skill made them fast. It was like facing two opponents at once. The young Ranger suddenly found that he had no idea how to fight this dervish, nor did he know how to adequately block a left-handed blow.

The lad was gasping for breath when Fili relented and stepped back. They both walked over for a drink from the bucket Dwalin brought over. The big Dwarf looked at him kindly. "Laddie, if ye'll let me work with you a bit, you will'na be dying by an axe or a mace. You still got some trainin' t'do before you go play with those Elves."

Still out of breath Kili smiled and stuck out his hand. Dwalin shook it, his paw engulfing the lad's hand. "We'll send ya off as prepared as we can."

The swim this time was more than welcome and Kili was too exhausted to do more than sneak a quick glance at Fili as he waded out into the water. He was too busy thinking about the Dwarves' other weapons. Those short swords were fast and deadly. It was a skill he was determined to learn.

In the morning Kili would train with Baen, then in the evening with the Dwarves. Fili gave him very little time to think about thick Dwarven muscles, he was too busy fending off a flurry of blows. Dwalin stripped to the waist was impressive. The tattoos wove down his arms, over his pecs on onto his back, each one telling a story in runes of picture. He was a rough opponent, who had no qualms about slapping the young Ranger sharply if he thought he deserved it.

The rainbow of bruises that Kili developed pained Fili to look at. Such a beautiful body should never be marred. Still, he knew the importance of a lesson well taught and he didn't hesitate to raise a welt here and there himself. To his amusement, after a few lessons the lad was able to strike fast enough to raise a bruise or two on Fili, warning him to step-up his game. Kili was a fast learner and very dedicated, a combination that just might keep him alive.

The swim and after that the meal were always welcome. Kili's muscles developed further, his biceps rippling as he swung and twisted the great axe Dwalin was teaching him to fight with. Fili allowed himself to watch and enjoy, confining his need to those quiet hours after everyone had turned in, and his tiny moans of joy and completion would not be noticed. He would have been more than a little embarrassed had he known that Kili was doing the same in the wee hours of the night as his mother and sister slept.


End file.
